The Dr Blake Mysteries - The Ballarat Station and Adelaide
by Cabbe1
Summary: Jean at the Ballarat Station waiting for the bus to Adelaide and Lucien and Jean in Adelaide.


This was my first attempt at fan fiction: inspired by S3, E8 "Darkness Visible" and S4, E1 "The Open Road." I've wondered what Jean was thinking, and what did happen in Adelaide. I tried posting it awhile back, but apparently failed. I'm trying again. Hope it works.

The Ballarat Station and Adelaide

Jean: Thinking back, I remember feeling a sense of expectation, anticipation even: of what, I'm not sure. We never discussed it, and Lucien made no promise to see me off to Adelaide. I knew of the mounting trouble with Chief Superintendent Munro, compounded by questions of Edward Tyneman's involvement in a current case, and Lucien always immersed himself in every aspect of a case until it was resolved. The scones, though; those, I wasn't expecting, but Lucien is hardly predictable.

At last, I had to board: disappointed, sad, reflective: feeling a little dazed, emotionally exhausted, but already accepting the commitment of duty that was far removing me from the commitment my heart was longing to make. The bus pulled out, only to suddenly slow, then halt with a slight jolt. Someone bounded up the steps. Instinctively, I looked up, and caught my breath as Lucien paused, his eyes already capturing mine. And then, he was closely beside me.

I knew in that moment that no matter what the future might hold, Lucien and I would face it together. For me, no words were needed, and he understood. With his arm cradling me, I laid my head on his chest, breathed in his warmth, and felt the steady rhythm of his heart beneath my cheek.

I must have fallen asleep. Much later, pulling into the Adelaide station, I awoke, and felt Lucien still holding me close. "Lucien, your poor arm!"

"Jean, It's all right."

My days in Adelaide were spent helping Christopher's wife, Ruby, with little Amelia Jean. Ruby was at first nervous, but as the days passed, she became more relaxed with me, and motherhood. Christopher was home in the late afternoon to relieve me, while waiting for news of his next posting. My heart beat faster as I looked into those blue eyes when Lucien came by for me each evening.

Our time together in Adelaide would be considered tame and mundane by most of the world. It certainly was compared to a day in the life of Ballarat, and thankfully so, as far as we were concerned. Once, we went to the theatre, and a couple of times we visited local museums, but most often, we had a simple dinner at the hotel, after which, Lucien sometimes played the piano to the

enjoyment of all present. Later, sitting together, I sometimes got out my knitting. Lucien would read aloud from old poetry volumes he had found while scavenging the local used bookstores. He told me that once, during his forays around the city, he came across a jazz group practising for a show, and they prevailed upon him to play drums for a couple sets.

Lucien went to mass with me, twice, without a complaint to be heard, and I hadn't even asked him to. He was a different Lucien. It's his nature to be compassionate, and passionate, but he's ever distracted. In Adelaide, he was so focused and attentive toward me, though we both still struggled with expressing the growing physical and emotional connection we were obviously feeling. It occurred to me that the reticent nature we shared had more than once prevented one or the other of us from reaching out sooner.

I admitted, at least to myself, I wanted, needed even, to be near him: really physically near him; that somehow, I could keep him safe. Without saying it, Lucien seemed to have moved from mostly needing my advice and counsel, to really needing my presence: to touch my shoulder, my face.

I had felt his arms around me, his strength providing comfort and support in my anxiety over Jack. His hands had held mine, and his fingers had gently wiped a tear from my face as I struggled to come to terms with the loss of Christopher. Lucien's words had shown me the path to this future I believe I've found.

Each night when Lucien finally went to his own room, I lay awake quietly for a while, finding comfort knowing he was only a few feet away, but I dared to dream of the day when I would share his bed.

A week passed, too quickly, and Lucien reluctantly acknowledged that he had to return to Ballarat soon. Two mornings later, we held each other for a long time, not knowing when we would see one another. I tried to reassure Lucien, telling him I would return, and we would make a life together. As fate would have it, Amelia called just before noon that day and related that she had been able to make arrangements to come to Adelaide for an extended visit, and would arrive within the week. Early afternoon, I received word that Matthew had been severely injured. When he heard about Matthew, Christopher insisted that he and Ruby would be fine until Amelia arrived.

I boarded the next bus to Ballarat with my thoughts swirling: first with worry for Matthew, then in anticipation of this unexpected reunion. It suddenly occurred to me: I hadn't phoned Lucien.


End file.
